


This Puzzle We Have Yet to Finish

by Faydem



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst and Feels, Bittersweet Ending, M/M, Michael-centric, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:04:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2824484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Faydem/pseuds/Faydem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You don’t understand, Geoff, you can’t—I don’t…"</p><p>"Explain to me what I don’t understand, baby." Geoff’s voice wavered, throat bobbing as he swallowed back feelings the five of them had been holding in for months.  </p><p>The redhead looked up, eyes red-rimmed and shadowed, devastated. “I didn’t save him.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	This Puzzle We Have Yet to Finish

**Author's Note:**

> AN: First AHOT6 one-shot! Enjoyyy!

____  
  
A hazy cluster of smoke and red shrapnel clouded his sight, the water stained a murky maroon liquid that Michael couldn’t comprehend. Fins of sharks broke to and from the ocean’s surface, the gray skin sleek and shivery and scarred. Michael’s fingers tried to scrabble along something to hold on to, anything to keep him above the choppy waters, but it was like he wasn’t in control of his own body. 

He was just a guest occupying the mind of some poor man, not able to do anything to help himself from drowning. As he went under, though, he felt his chest tightening with an indescribable trepidation directed towards not his situation - but a person. 

A person he couldn’t remember, and  _that_  was the real fear.  _That_  was what made him tread his arms and legs and struggle towards the sky - getting darker and further away - and not care that he was going to die, because he hadn’t saved that person yet.

Someone who needed him more than he needed to help himself.

Bubbles burst towards the surface, silencing his cries of frustration and swallowing his breath—but he couldn’t give up. Not until Michael took back what was his, could acquire more memories instead of reliving the same fuzzy pictures that he was too tired to recall.

Flailing his limbs around uselessly wasn’t contributing to his situation at all, only working in dragging him deeper under the waves and attracting the beady, ink-filled eyes of the sharks. Panicking, he thrashed and tried to gulp in air—succeeding in filling his lungs with water—and seized in place, bubbles exploding from his mouth in mute coughs. His body was burning, hot coals filling his stomach and weighing him down, demolishing his coherent thoughts.

 _No, no, I’m going to fucking_ die  _here, I’m going to…_

He just needed to calm down and —

"Wake up!" Michael shot forward, fists clenching the sheets as he shakily took in a breath. His eyes shot around, taking in four sleeping figures and two big eyes staring at him. 

"Gavin? What…what—" The redhead winced and rolled his shoulders slowly, shivering at the feel of sweat cooling against his nape and back. 

"You’re fine now, you sausage. It was just a nightmare. Hey, look at me." Gavin ducked his head to meet Michael’s eyes. His hair was a ruffled mess and his face was scruffily and non-shaven. The nostalgia of Gavin’s sleep ridden appearance stuffed Michael with an overpowering fondness so deep within he could barely breathe, fingernails coming up to scrabble against his chest anxiously.

He smiled as his eyes watered and throat clenched, forcing a startled grunt out of Gavin. Michael hadn’t made a habit of crying in front of the others—none of them had, really—and it was always shocking when one of them let shrouded emotions slip through. He swallowed tightly, slowing his breaths until he could take control of the unexplainable distressed feeling grasping at his chest.

"Do you see me? It was just a dream, I’m here." Gavin’s arm was around his shoulders, fingers tapping soothingly across Michael’s bicep. The Brit waited patiently for a response that Michael couldn’t give, scanning over the redhead’s face and coming back to a pause at his damp cheeks.  Michael looked down, running a sleeve quickly, casually, across his face. 

"Y-you wanna talk about it?" Gavin sounded so terribly awkward and sincere that Michael had to laugh, clamping a hand over his mouth so that he didn’t wake up the others. 

"Nah, it’s no big deal. I don’t remember it, anyway." And he didn’t; was somehow shaken up without even being able to recall what had done this to him. 

They paused in uncertain silence for a moment, giving Michael’s heart a chance to beat something  _less_  than three times per second and for his breathing to become more than little shudders. Gavin looked exhausted, eyes wide yet circled with purple, like he was trying to appear more awake than he actually was.

His slow, lethargic movements soothed Michael’s nerves the same time it simultaneously pained him; waking up Gavin had not been his intention, but some selfish part of him was grateful for the lad’s ability to be up at any slightly strange sound. 

Michael’s mind calmed, tuning in to the present moment and feeling the warm mattress below him, the barely-there breeze flowing from their ceiling fan.

 _This_ was his reality, not some horror story that had been spun up by his imagination.

"Think I’m fine, Gav, you can go back to sleep." 

The younger didn’t budge, his arm dropping from Michael’s shoulders to rest against his lower back. The redhead had to contain himself from rolling his eyes. 

"For fuck’s sake, I’m  _fine_ , you feel me?” He grabbed Gavin’s hand and placed it steadily over his chest, heartbeat a tranquil, anchored thump consistent against Gavin’s palm.  

"You’re sure?"

"Yeah."

“You’re sure you’re sure?” He was teasing him now, a silly grin plastered to his face, and Michael wasn’t positive he could pretend to be annoyed this time around. 

He smiled, leaning his forehead against the Brit’s shoulder to hide it. 

"Jesus fucking Christ, I’m sure that I’m sure, okay? Go to sleep. I’ll wake you up if I need you." Michael wouldn’t, not really, a false promise if only said for Gavin’s peace of mind. 

"Really though, if you do, I’m here. You’re my boi, I’ll  _always_  be here.”

They slept easier.

_Beep!_ _Beep!_ _Beep!_ _Beep!_

Was Michael the only one who cared about the stupid, loud in-your-face alarm at fuck o’ clock in the morning? Because it wasn’t shutting off. Every day always started out like this, Geoff promising to turn the maddening machine off but either forgetting or convincing himself not to. 

Without it, yeah, they probably would be late it work, but Michael was completely fine with that as long as he got to sleep five minutes longer. Or five hours. The warm body compressed up against his side wasn’t helping in Michael’s obligation to get up, either, even when whoever it was elbowed him with an irritated groan. 

"Fuck, Gavin, fucking get it yourself, asshole." He huffed, burying himself further under soft blankets and body heat to separate himself from the blaring clock. 

Everything seemed to strain immediately.

The bed dipped and the alert stopped as abruptly as it had started, and the person who had been lying contently against his side jerked away as if burned. It was silent, devoid of heavy, sleep-filled breathing and rustling sheets. 

Michael leaned up on his elbows and blearily peered through half-lidded eyes. Ray was leaning against Jack, staring down at him with hurt plastered across his face. 

"What? What’s wrong?" He sat up, now alert, and turned to his right, watching Geoff irritatingly fiddle with the alarm clock and, out of the corner of his eye, Ryan slam the bathroom door shut. 

"You called me Gavin." Ray’s voice was taut, his body posture uncomfortable and tense as his fingers contracted against the sheets. 

"I’m—yeah? He was next to me when I fell asleep, Ray, sorry but—" Geoff’s hand slammed down on their nightstand, making Michael jerk upwards violently. 

"Jesus, Geoff, what the fuck if everyone’s deal today?" 

"Shut the fuck up, Michael." Geoff’s voice was harsh, anguished. His fists were clenched tightly and he was shaking, breaths forced out of him in short shudders. 

Michael had done this?

"Geoff…?" The redhead leaned up on his knees and reached out to lay his hand tentatively on the older man’s shoulder, trying to keep steady as Geoff unwound under his touch. 

"I’m sorry." Michael mouthed the words silently, exhaling deeply as Geoff collapsed next to him on the bed.

"It’s okay, it’s fine, c’mere." He reached out and encircled his arms around Michael’s waist, pulling him forward until he was able to bury his face in Michael’s neck. 

"It…it wasn’t real, was it." It wasn’t a question, just a barely murmured statement, and Geoff’s fists clutched tightly at the fabric of Michael’s shirt. 

"No. God, I wish it had been, baby, but no." Geoff replied, voice ragged and raspy and Michael  _hated_  himself for doing this to someone he loved. 

For doing this to the people who had glued him back together whilst trying to fix themselves. 

"Oh, God." 

"Michael…" 

"No, I’m sorry, I had just thought…I  _hoped_ …fuck, I can’t breathe.” His voice cracked off, sliding under everyone’s skin and residing there, throbbing like infected splinters. 

"Hey, we’re here with you, calm down, you’re fine. We’re all fine." Geoff’s skin-tight grip softened, hands coming to rest at Michael’s lower back as they traced small shapes and twisty patterns.

"You don’t understand, Geoff, you can’t—I don’t…"

 ”Explain to me what I don’t understand, baby.” Geoff’s voice wavered, throat bobbing as he swallowed back feelings the five of them had been holding in for months. 

The redhead looked up, eyes red-rimmed and shadowed, devastated. “I didn’t save him.”

The dam broke, Geoff letting out a chocked noise that resounded throughout the tormented quiet and Jack leaning against the bed frame, too shaky to stand.

"You  _couldn’t_  have, Michael, don’t you  _ever_  think anything different.  _Ever_.” Hands brought Michael’s face up, not giving in until the redhead’s eyes flickered quickly over Geoff’s and he gave a small nod, not agreeing but acknowledging the firmly spoken words.

Ray whooshed out harshly, weakly clearing his throat and tucking into Jack even more. The lad rubbed at his face irritatedly, flinching when Jack put a hand on his side. Everyone seemed edgy, patience and will stretched and twisted thin more so than should be emotionally possible. 

They had finally been getting back on their feet, not quite happy and never fully _complete_ , but it had been something. The accident was never mentioned, no one slipped up, and each had been getting over it slowly in their own time. 

Michael had ruined it. 

"Ryan, where—" The redhead gently nudged at Geoff and started for the bathroom doors, huffing as Geoff grabbed him by the wrist. 

"Let him be. We’ll all talk about this later together, we’ve been  _needing_  to talk about this, but…leave him for now.” The gent was not stern with his words, just tired, but his eyes begged Michael with half-hearted resign. 

"Yeah. Yeah, okay." It was whispered. 

Everyone was exhausted, sad. 

It was hushed, everyone stuck in their minds, Michael’s eyes flickering as he saw pictures of recollections that, even though he cherished, he desperately wished he could forget.

 _God,_ how he wanted to forget.

 Michael squirmed against Geoff, begging his body to still as it went over the millions of fights he and his lovers had had that had resulted in silence, how Gavin had always cracked the tension with some horribly stupid comment or attempt at humor.

It had always worked, each of them gripping onto Gavin’s words to mend whatever had been undone.

“Every time.” Michael breathed, too shushed to be heard by the others.

_‘Thanks for that, back there._

_‘For what?’ A small smile, eyebrows raised._

_‘You know what, asshole.’_

_‘Remind me?’_

_Michael huffed. ‘For saving the moment, throwing away what nonexistent pride you had left.’_

_Gavin laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners playfully. ‘Aw, Michael, but what would you all do without me?’_

The redhead jerked in place, snapping his head back-and-forth to whoosh away his brain’s painful way of torturing him.

“Michael?”

“This calls for a day off, huh?” Blunt, sudden. Not as pro a save as Gavin’s, and much more forced, but Ray raised an eyebrow at him humorously as Jack grinned into the lad’s dark hair.

“Sure, whatever. I expect you all to make it up, though.” Geoff barked out a hoarse laugh, hand trailing up Michael’s back gratefully.

Ray joined in, snatching onto the words like Michael had hoped— _thank you, Gavin, thank you_ —saying, “You’re missing too, you jackass!”

“Yeah, but dude, I’m not gonna fire myself.” Geoff grinned, causing Ray to roll his eyes and bite his lip, preventing a smile.

The laughter resulted in their bathroom door opening, Ryan’s head—ragged, redness surrounding his eyes and under his nose—popping out and looking over the four of them. “I heard something about missing work?”

The five of them chuckled, quietly, tension sinking out of each slowly.

“Just for a few days. Not too much work, anyway, we’ll all be fine. We’ll make it.” Geoff ran his fingers up the back of Michael’s hand, squeezing softly, and with the others motioned for Ryan to come over.

They all moved closer and fit together, skin brushing skin in reassurance and breaths intermingling, leisurely calming. There was a blank space that dipped into the group, Michael’s arm waving through the air for a moment before settling against the mattress, hand tingling with a feigned resign. 

He exhaled, firmer, and let a smile—strained, but a smile nonetheless—twitch at the corners of his lips.

Geoff was right; they would be okay.

They had made it this far, hadn’t they?


End file.
